


Oblivious

by verzisphere



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Feeding, Jake being ridiculously dense, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:35:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verzisphere/pseuds/verzisphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A limited diet on hell murder island has resulted in Jake English developing quite the sweet tooth that Jane’s constant baking seems to satisfy quite effectively. Jane notices the effects on his waistline, but Jake’s none the wiser. A half-hearted suggestion sparks a plan in Jane’s ol’ noggin and she decides to let her guy indulge in her confections to see just when (and if) he’ll notice the gain himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt on the kinkmeme: 
> 
>  
> 
> _At some point Jane gets to bake for her friends and Jake, after a lifetime of raw meat and pumpkins, turns out to have an enormous sweet tooth. Jane starts baking for him specifically and Jake appreciates it._
> 
>   _Really appreciates it._
> 
>   _The effects start to show and Jane feels rather guilty, and yet almost frusturated at the fact Jake is totally oblivious to his growing waistline, to the point that she totally overindulges him just to see how long it takes to get him to notice_

“Did you leave room for a slice of cake?”

“Of course! This soldier always has room in his tank for your confectionary masterpieces,” Jake replied, patting his stomach proudly. You cut a piece of the cake you just finished putting icing on and placed it in front of him. He stuck his fork into the fluffy slice and popped the piece into his mouth.

Instantly, you can see how much he enjoyed it; he nearly moaned in pleasure and he closed his eyes to better savor the taste, and it did nothing but make you swell in pride. Never had you expected Jake to take to your baking so well. Everybody liked your cake and whatnot to some degree but most would grow tired of eating it on a daily basis (which is probably what happened to John.)

Jake was an exception. Everyday since you’ve been together, he would gladly taste test and enjoy anything you made. No cake went uneaten, and you don’t even remember the last time you had to throw away something that went stale. He would graze on cookies all day until the platter was empty, and you would sometimes catch him washing down the last piece of the pie you baked that morning with a glass of milk later in that same afternoon. That tickled your fancy a whole lot more than you were willing to admit.

“Golly, that was your best yet!” he said, wiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “I think I’d like another piece!”

“Are you sure about that?” you chuckled, already cutting the new slice for him. 

“Absolutely!”

He dug in with just as much gusto as the last piece, and you just barely feel your cheeks begin to glow.

==

This little set up where every thing you made was promptly eaten continued, but it didn’t occur to you that there would be some… unexpected repercussions, until one night (re)watching Avatar with Jake.

The two of you were cuddled close to one another on the sofa with his strong arm reaching over your shoulder and keeping you close. As per usual, he was a lot more invested in the movie than you were, but neither of you minded. It was pretty much the same thing whenever you watched those old detective films. “They didn’t have enough action,” was his excuse for not being interested, when it was clear that the lack of lovely blue ladies was the culprit, hoo hoo!

In any case, one of the various scenes he considered his favorite came up, and he was pretty much detached from this realm completely. That’s when you snuggled up closer to his chest and snaked a hand around his waist. Then you felt it, a slight bump under his shirt. 

“Hello, what’s this I see?” you said, pressing down on it. Jake had quite the layer of softness going on under his shirt.

“What is what?”

“It appears I can pinch an inch,” you said, performing the action, “what do you think that means?” He stared at you, pondering over what you said for a second before shrugging. You poked his barely-there belly again to see if he would catch on, but it didn’t seem to help.

“I have no clue what you’re getting at, my dear.”

“Perhaps I should cut down on my baking, is what I’m thinking.”

“Why would you want to do that?” he exclaimed, taken aback by such a notion. “I can’t imagine a day deprived of your enchanting confections! Plus, you love baking, Janey! I’d never in a million years suggest you stop doing what you obviously love and I don’t see any reason why I would, quite frankly.”

“Hm,” you hummed, patting his stomach, “if you say so.”

After pondering over it, you concluded that it was probably inevitable that he’d end up with a bit of pudginess. He could no longer go gallivanting off into the jungle, guns blazing and chasing (or getting chased by) monsters like he did when he was younger, so he probably didn’t get nearly as much exercise. He has embraced the life of domesticity, and odds were that your baking had next to nothing to do with the almost negligible amount of weight around his middle, so you decided not to worry about it and delve right back into the epic battle scene displayed on the television. As you watched, you couldn’t help giving Jake’s little tummy one last rub. He didn’t seem to notice. 

==

Your baking went unabated, as did Jake’s consumption of whatever popped out of the well-used oven of yours. The reliable old girl gets props for keeping up with your habits; you recalled many an oven sputtering out its last sheet of cookies during your father’s reign as head baker of the household.

You got out of bed early this morning, bright-eyed and bushy tailed as always, and got your usual jumpstart on baking a fresh platter of cookies. Today, Jake would (most likely) be enjoying a couple dozen shortbread cookies. An old favorite. You also made sure to bake some extras and hide them away incase Roxy or Dirk decided to pop in unexpectedly, as they usually did. You can’t be caught unable to show the proper hospitality just because Jake’s such a greedy gut! 

“Blasted shorts!”

The loud outburst almost made you drop the tray of cookies you had in your hands. You placed the tray on the counter and removed your oven mitts so you could go see what all of the hubbub was about.

When you looked through the doorway into the room, you noticed Jake seemingly in a battle to the death… with his pants? 

“Come on, you dag nabbed button! Almost there… just a little- gah!” He let go of his pants in his frustration, and put his hands on his hips, starring downward at the unbuttoned article with utter disdain. His back was to you and whoa, there _definitely_ was a bit more bottom filling those shorts of his. You weren’t crazy thinking there was a bit more to grab that other night.

You leaned against the doorway, thoroughly amused. “Having some trouble there, Mr. English?”

“Oh,” he said, turning towards you, “my darned shorts don’t want to cooperate this morning, and for the life of me I can’t seem to figure out why.”

The culprit was clear to you. The only thing you couldn’t see was how it wasn’t clear to Jake. That bit of softness you discovered a while back was still taking up residence around his middle (amongst other places), and it invited some friends. Heck, he was looking softer all over. The muscles on his arms have lost some definition, and his face sported the slightest hint of roundness if you looked hard enough. He’s always had great thighs, but now those shorts legs looked a bit snug around them and if his ass gets too much bigger, those shorts will be out of commission. It wasn’t like his shorts were all that loose to begin with.

And let’s not get started over the pretty noticeable stomach he’s got now. Abs? What abs? Jake English is working on that one pack that’s becoming popular nowadays. Hoo hoo!

“Are you absolutely sure you can’t see why your shorts don’t want to button?” you asked.

He looked down and scratched the back of his head. “Perhaps I washed them incorrectly last time? Shrinkage doesn’t seem out of the question, and you know I can be a bit of a dunderhead when it comes to laundering.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious? That’s what you’re going with?” 

“It’s the only explanation I can think of!” 

“Really?” He shrugged again and you had to resist smacking your forehead with your palm.

“Okay, round three, you cockamamie amalgam of fabric!” he said determinedly, grabbing each side of his pants. He breathed in deeply, sucking in his gut, and you watched the muscles in his arms tense as the struggle to button his shorts began for (apparently) the third time. He grunted and got red in the face, and you almost thought he might pass out trying to accomplish this impossible feat before he suddenly had a break through.

He managed to button them and promptly zipped up the fly.

“Haha! Victory!” he yelled, throwing up his arms in triumph. When he finally relaxed, you saw first hand how his stomach pooched over the shorts and the hint of love handles forming right over the waistband on either side. “So, Jane, what did you whip up this morning?”

“Shortbread cookies.”

“Great! I’ll just go help myself to some of those then, if you don’t mind.” He strutted past you, and you could swear you could hear a subtle creak. You didn’t mind him helping himself to the cookies, but you bet his shorts did.


	2. Chapter 2

\-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] \--

TG: jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaney   
GG: Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?   
TG: oh nice same number of as   
TG: on the first time too!   
GG: It’s an acquired skill.    
TG: so   
TG: whatcha up to?   
GG: What do you think? :B   
TG: lets see   
TG: youre either sitting on the couch indulging in some detective stuff while wearing that gooftastic mustache   
TG: or youre baking   
TG: im going for the latter   
GG: You are correct in that regard.   
TG: i dont see how youre always baking   
TG: and i mean always   
TG: yet your house never explodes from being filled with too many cakes and cookies   
TG: care to elaborate on this conundrum?   
GG: Hoo, I could ask the same thing about Jake!   
GG: He’s basically the reason everything I make disappears, though I wish he was a little more aware of that fact.   
TG: uh oh   
TG: that last bit has my “jake is not the swiftest hoofbeast in the forest” senses tingling   
TG: does he need some sense kicked in him again to restart his douchemuffin counter?   
GG: It’s nothing like that, but he definitely needs a healthy helping of sense!   
TG: alright then well talk about it later because right now u need to answer your door   
GG: I beg your pardon?   
TG: who makes aspiring house guests wait outside in the cold?   
TG: shameful janey    
TG: shaaaaaaaaameful   
TG: and to think we considered you the one who offered the greatest quality of hospitality   
GG: Wait, are you outside, as in, right outside my front door?   
TG: yup   
GG: You know, most civilized people either knock or ring the doorbell, and they also have a habit of forewarning the owner of the abode they fully intend to visit.   
TG: blah blah blh    
TG: w/e!    
TG: we went over this   
TG: just come open the door already   
TG: im freezing my tits off   
GG: Roxy, it’s 60 degrees outside.   
TG: exactly   
TG: any longer in this shitty cold as hell weather and im gonna be titless   
TG: i will be referred to as roxy titless lalonde   
TG: because her bffsy made her sit outside until they fell off   
TG: now theyre sitting there   
TG: 2 glorious lumps of boob flesh half buried in the snow   
GG: Are you quite done?   
TG: depends   
TG: are u gonna let me in   
TG: or do i have to go all super secret spy bitch and perform some feats of hardcore home infiltration?   
GG: Hold your horses, I’m on the way.   


\-- gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased bothering tipsyGnostalgic [TG] \--

This was exactly what you were talking about when it came to your friends. Despite coming unannounced, you stopped what you were doing and let in the chilly Lalonde. Being raised in the middle of the ocean in a post-apocalyptic world where everything was flooded, she wasn’t used to the brisk temperatures of your home state of Washington.

Clad in her usual scarf, Roxy promptly took a seat at the kitchen table without so much as a howdy-do. That’s Roxy for ya.

“Brrr! Good thing I can always expect your kitchen to be warm,” she said, shivering over exaggeratedly. You rolled your eyes and took a seat next to her. The brownies you were making would be a moment in the oven, so you had a chance to sit and chat.

Roxy removed her scarf and leaned closer to you on the table. “So spill, what’s Jake done, or not done, to get your apron in a twist.”

Before you said anything, you heard the heavy footsteps of Jake’s boots coming down the stairs. “I think it would be better if you see it for yourself.”

“Roxy! How’s my old gal pal?” he greeted, jocularly scooping her up into a big hug.

“Jakey!” she returned, hugging him back. Her left hand slipped lower and groped his ass.

“Whoa!”

“Customary booty grab greeting, courtesy of one Dirk Strider who was too much of a butt munch to walk through the howling tundra with me to visit you guys.”

Oh Lord. Howling tundra? The poor dear needs to get used to this weather one way or another.

“In that case, tell him I said hi, too!” he said, releasing her. Once her feet were planted on terra firma, he moved over to the kitchen counter and lifted the top of a cake platter, revealing a single, but still generously portioned, slice of chocolate cake with equally chocolate frosting. “Your chocolate cake put up quite the honorable fight, Jane, but it looks like I’ll be finishing it off momentarily! I can’t promise it will end quickly.”

“The cake has its affairs in order, handle it as you will,” you told him. He wasn’t even out of the kitchen before he took the first bite. Once he was gone, you turned to Roxy and she looked a little shocked. She stared at the hand she used to grope his behind, opening and closing the fingers repeatedly as if she was constantly reassessing the plushness of his rump.

“ _Someone_ is feeling extra cuddly, and, wow, that is way too much ass for those shorts!” she said, eyes as wide as her smile.

“That’s the issue. He’s developed quite the sweet tooth and I don’t think he’s paying any attention whatsoever to the consequences of his overindulgence,” you explained. “For your information, I baked that cake this morning.”

Roxy’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit, he demolished it that quickly? It’s, like, only two pm and that didn’t look like no puny specimen of a cake! Sweet tooth my ass, that’s the work of sweet dentures right thur.”

“Jokes aside, I can’t help but feel I’m responsible.” The oven timer for your brownies went off, and you moved to get them out. “I’m thinking I should make less treats. He’s only eating them because they are always around to tempt him.”

“Pfffft, nah,” she said, taking her seat back at the table and crossing one leg over the other. “It’s totes not your fault he doesn’t have any self control around sweets. If anything you should keep feeding him cake until he notices he’s getting chunky himself.” You froze in place, brownies still in hand. Roxy looked up to see you staring at her blankly, and nervousness crept into her features. “Uh, Janey, what are you thinking? It looks like you’re two steps away from doing the evil conniving mustache twisty-twirly thing villains do in cartoons.”

You put the brownies down and reached into your apron pocket, drawing a thin black mustache. You always made sure you had an assortment of mustaches available for any situation that could arise.

“What are you doing?”

You slowly brought it up to its proper place on your upper lip.

“Jane, _no_. Put that away!”

A mischievous, buck-toothed grin slowly made its way across your face as you set the prop in position.

“No! Bad! Take the villain mustache off!” she demanded. In response to her demand, you waggled your eyebrows at her and twisted one end of the fake ‘stache maniacally. You even did an appropriately sinister laugh to top off the package. Roxy groaned.

“You’ve got my gears turning. I think I have a lot more baking to do!” 

“Ohmigosh, I wasn’t being serious!”

“Of course you weren’t! But I definitely am. That’s a splendid idea, and I’m surprised I haven’t thought of it myself.”

“That’s kinda messed up, though!”

“Think of it as nothing more than my usual prankster shenanigans. And you did say it’s not my fault he lacks the proper self control, after all.”

You heard Roxy’s forehead hit the table. “Okay, fine, but let the records show that I was not involved in operation ‘Blow Jake Up Like A Blimp’ in any way whatso-fucking-ever. Under where it says Roxy’s involvement should be the most epic ‘NOPE’ stamp, and it should be made of blood or some shiz to make it that much more official.”

“That’s pretty hard to do, because not only did you give me the idea, but you just gave it an excellent name!” you countered, chuckling. “I have to give credit where it’s due.”

“Well, fuck. I’ll just shut up now. Brownie me, Jane,” she said, holding out a hand expectantly.

You began cutting her a piece, maneuvering your cake slicer through gooey chocolate as you devised a long list of things to throw together for your unsuspecting guy.

==

“Is there some special occasion I plumb forgot about?” Jake inquired, looking over the vast assortment of baked goods with nervous excitement. “If so, I apologize in advance.”

You sighed, shaking your head subtly. Jake’s constant forgetfulness was something that you had to learn to deal with, so it was no surprise that he would think something would be going on once he noticed your increased baking. Truth be told, you were relieved he notice it at all. Maybe there was some hope for him.

After Roxy left (but not without swiping a few brownies for the road, and maybe Dirk if she was feeling especially magnanimous), you kicked your habits into high gear, nearly doubling your usual output. By the time Jake came home from his usual visit to the only shooting range he and Jade weren’t banned from, you already had several cakes and full platters of cookies ready for him. A perk to becoming the baroness of a massive baking corporation is that ingredients will never be an issue, so all you needed was a small infusion of prankster’s determination to get things going. This was actually a little exciting! You haven’t been able to stretch your practical joker muscles in a while.

“No, there’s no special occasion this time,” you assured him, still mixing the bowl of batter in your arm vigorously, “so don’t worry your noodle over that.”

“Phew! Good,” he said, relieved. “Wouldn’t want to end up in the doghouse again. Any particular reason for the increased productivity?”

“Nope!” 

“So can I-“

“By all means help yourself,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek as you walked passed him to the oven. You pretended to not pay him any attention as he loaded up a large plate with a little of everything. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him take a piece of every available cake, ranging from spice, angel’s food, to yet another chocolate cake (this time with plain white icing.) He swiped a finger across the top of one of the slices and licked it off, his face visibly brightening.

“I have another cake in the works, so don’t wander off to far,” you said, winking at him.

“Oh goodie!”

This was going to be easy. The only thing you wondered about was how long you’d have to keep this up before Jake noticed its effects, but either way, you knew your prankster’s gambit would be filling out quite a bit from this endeavor (along with Jake’s stomach).


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while to update, and only came up with a short chapter! I apologize for the wait, my productiveness kinda went *insert fart noise here* and it's still kinda low right now, but I'm pushing on through.

Unsurprisingly, Jake continued to showcase his lack of self-control during the weeks after you’ve put your little plan into action. He was always throwing something sweet into his mouth before, but now you suspected he was eating all the time while he was home. He was definitely eating more due to the noticeable surplus of baked goods, and you don’t think you ever see him without a piece of cake or a cookie to go with his now perpetually bloated tummy. You were starting to wonder if he _ever_ got full because he was starting to show signs of being part black hole with hints of having a bottomless pit somewhere in his ancestry.

However, that was proven untrue when you got home late one night when a meeting went on later than it should have (a cake baroness still has her duties). All of the baked goods in the kitchen were almost gone, save for a few stray cookies, a piece or two of pie, and half a cake out of the few that you baked. In order to have made that sort of progress, he must’ve been really going to town. 

Exiting the most-used room of the household, you saw Jake on the couch, passed out and snoring from either a massive sugar crash, a cake induced food coma, or a combination of both, while the television watched itself. He really did a number on those pastries, but it looks like your baking may have won this night, but only just barely! His messiness was apparent in the various plates and silverware littering the nearby coffee table, and you think he may have finished off most of the milk you had left in the house, meaning more shopping to be done. You knew this was going to require frequent grocery runs, but you didn’t count on him chugging down all of the milk. 

Since he was sleeping, you decided to take the opportunity to assess the day’s “damage.” Sitting beside him on the edge of the couch, you placed a hand on his distended stomach. It looked a lot bigger up close and, golly gee, there was no give at all when you touched it! His gut was packed tight.

His shirt was fighting a hard battle to cover the bloated mass, but still left a small bit of it visible above his pants line. While you absentmindedly rubbed his full belly, your gaze followed his prominent happy trail down to his unbuttoned shorts. Those were definitely not going be fastened any time soon, and even after he finished digesting, you still had doubts that he’d be able to button them. It depended on where today’s influx of cake was planning to set up shop.

After one last pap to his belly, you made sure he was comfortable, bringing a blanket to cover him and setting a pillow under his head, before heading off to bed yourself. It didn’t look like he was waking up anytime soon.

==

The next day, it was clear that yesterday’s binge had no effects on Jake’s morning appetite. You made sure there was already something for him to dive into after he was done with breakfast, but sometimes you couldn’t help but watch in astonishment as he tore through several slices of cake at various speeds.

“Jake, don’t you think you should slow down a bit?”

“Hm? Why?” he asked after swallowing another mouthful. “Did you want some?”

“Uhm, nevermind.” It was worth a try. You refrained from outright telling him that he may be gaining weight for the sake of your little experiment (yes, that is what you are calling it), but you’d be lying if you said that there wasn’t just a little concern accompanying your ever increasing intrigue.

Seriously, how could he _not_ notice he was putting on weight? You were far from sensitive about such superficial things (concerning yourself or otherwise), but Jake’s obliviousness was positively baffling. Surely, no one could honestly tell you that he’s not noticing his entire wardrobe feeling the slightest be tighter, that it was obvious his favorite button-down shirt was doing some extra work staying closed around his stomach, or that there was a blatant reason that your hands were able to get a better hold on his softening body during that one time you were getting frisky. You would think he could put two and two together after all the instances you wrapped your hands around him from behind so you could cop a lovely feel of his belly under his shirt. And god, his ass! It has never looked so glorious.

Hoo boy…

You had to admit that you were getting your fair share of enjoyment out of this, and baking never failed to keep your spirits high. It’s just so strange that Jake could be so freaking _dense_. He even said Jade’s made a “mysterious” habit of poking him in his flank whenever they go to the shooting range.

One day, you’ll uncover the secret of his noggin and find that it’s a hamster running on a wheel.

“I think I may have to pass on that last one,” Jake sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Full already?” you asked, genuinely surprised. He still had a full slice of cake left on the plate in front of him, so maybe he wasn’t able to sleep off everything he devoured the day prior.

“I think I still have some stragglers hanging around from last night. I went overboard a bit,” he explained. 

Yeah, he definitely did.

You scooted your seat closer to him, observing as he tried to rub away the fullness of his stomach. He inhaled, and then exhaled slowly. You could tell he was feeling pretty stuffed, but it looked like he was enjoying the feeling. Figuring he was too full to finish, you slid his plate closer to yourself with the intention of eating it. You would rather not have to place it back on the cake platter.

Before the first forkful of cake ever reached your lips, Jake’s stomach grumbled loudly, preceding a very loud, very long belch. The eructation was so impressive, your fork stopped mid-movement.

“Phew! That’s much better!” he said, tapping one side of his fist to his chest. “I think I may have enough room to eat that cake after all!”

He reached over and grabbed the plate, but not without snatching the fork right out of your hand with an accompanying “yoink.” You gave him a look, your lips pressed into a long, flat line across your face and your brows knit together to illustrate just how unamused you were with his lack of manners because wow, rude!

In response, he gave you a sheepish shrug and smile before closing his lips around another bite of cake. He was lucky that the cake was for him in the first place, because you were an inch away from bopping him one!


	4. Chapter 4

There was just something about watching Jake eat that was tantalizing, and you soon discovered it was even more so when you were the one feeding him the myriad of sweets destined to go down his gullet.

The first few weeks of this venture were spent just watching from a distance, from the corner of your eye, or just from across the table, yourself slowly becoming more and more mesmerized as he stuffed his face, until you decided to step it up. You gently grabbed his wrist, interrupted one of the many trips his fork was making to his mouth.

“May I?” you asked. Unsure of what you were asking, he simply tilted his head and let you commandeer his eating utensil. He didn’t seem to object when you brought the next bite up to his lips.

Then it pretty much snowballed from then on, and it became a habit you indulged in almost every night.

You lifted the fork to his waiting mouth, and just watched as the bit of pie on it disappeared. You followed up with a quick kiss to his lips before he even swallowed, like it was a little reward. In response, he moaned, a satisfied, near inaudible sound that made you squirm in his lap.

“How do you like the key lime?” you asked him, already prepping the fork for another go.

“Splendiferous,” he said, eyes closed.

With you feeding him, his hands were free to rub his stomach, at this point swollen and distended from various other sweets and confections you had him “taste test” this night. Its steady growth gave you a little less space when you sat across his lap nowadays, but you managed. You didn’t really mind sharing all that much.

You raised a larger bit of pie with a generous amount of meringue topping to his lips, and it went down as did all before it, but not without leaving a bit of topping in the corner of his mouth. With your pinky, you wiped it off and brought the digit to your own mouth, smiling when you noticed Jake watching the motion with obvious interest. You licked your lips with a seductive flair, and he swallowed, his face blushing ever so slightly in a way you always find both handsome and adorable. 

You were about to have him finish the last of this slice of pie when your PDA chimed from the other side of the room.

“Now who could that be?” you inquired to no one in particular.

“Go ahead and answer, Janey,” Jake said, stretching his arms upwards and letting them fall along the back of the couch. “It could be from work, and I think I need a short break anyway.” He smiled, patting his round stomach, the mass no longer completely covered by his shirt after that stretch. Looking around at the few remaining cakes and pies in the living room, you realized that you’ve been helping him eat quite a bit, so a break might be recommended if you intend to have him finish everything. You got up to answer the device, it’s constant chiming telling you that whoever was trying to contact you was posting multiple lines, and you were feeling pretty positive it wasn’t work related.

\-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG]. \--  


TT: So it has come to my attention that our worst fears may have been realized.   
TT: It was only a matter of time that the seeds of evil sown in your heart after becoming the baroness of a vast baking empire would finally take root.   
TT: Burrowing their tainted tendrils through vascular flesh and anchoring themselves onto your conscious, wherein it will eventually be drained completely of its will to evaluate your actions.   
TT: Roxy didn’t want to believe it, but lo, the truth is in the pudding.   
TT: Or the fluffy sponge cake I should say.   
GG: What on earth are you going on about? :B  
TT: By that bucktoothed smiley tacked onto the end of that inquiry, I assume you know exactly what I’m talking about.   
GG: She told you, didn’t she?   
TT: Yes.   
TT: After a fair bit of heckling, I might add.   
GG: Poor Roxy!   
GG: I can only imagine the trials and tribulations she had to endure as you tried to get her to spill the beans.   
TT: My psychological torture is cruel, yet effective.   
TT: So much so that it only took three minutes of lip-quivering pouting and a single fake tear to break her iron will.   
GG: Dastardly! And you dare insinuate that I am the evil one?   
GG: So how much of my little “experiment” have you been enlightened to?   
TT: Enough to know that you are the vilest of cake fiends.   
GG: Hm. I see.   
GG: Now what do you think this means, my dear Strider?   
GG: For the record, I am tenting my hands and systematically tapping the tips of my fingers together as I await your answer.   
TT: As any villain worth their god damn salt should.   
TT: But the answer is simple.   
TT: It means we’re all doomed.   
GG: A little overdramatic don’t you think?   
TT: Just a tad I guess.   
TT: But seriously.   
TT: What the fuck, Crocker?   
TT: That’s pretty heinous.   
GG: Its underhandedness is a little different from my usual antics, I admit.   
GG: But I’m finding the experience very enjoyable, as is Jake, as oblivious as he is to my plans and quite possibly its aftereffects.   
GG: And before you launch yourself into a whole harangue concerning its ethics, may I ask why it has you in a tizzy?   
TT: Oh, I’m not hung up on the ethics.   
GG: Then what seems to be the purpose of this exchange?   
TT: I only wish to make one request.   
GG: Okay?   
TT: Send pictures.   
GG: …  
TT: What?   
TT: You’ve been doing this for weeks and I’m just now getting word of it after Roxy had an accidental slip of the tongue.   
TT: Which I’m really fucking surprised didn’t happen earlier.   
GG: To be frank, I was expecting you to learn about this back when I first started.   
GG: I can’t help but feel proud of Roxy!   
TT: So can I expect photographs in the near future?   
GG: Nope! :B  
TT: And why the hell not?   
GG: Because if you actually visited recently you could’ve taken a gander at the results for yourself!   
GG: You used to be so good about visiting us, now only Roxy makes the usual commute.   
GG: What gives?   
TT: …  
GG: Well?   
TT: …It’s too cold.   
GG: Oh dear lord.   


You sighed and shook your head with disappointment. Dirk should know that by making such a trek, he’d be met with a reward of warm pastries and top notch hospitality. That homebody needs to take a break from his robotics and join Roxy outside, because complaining about sixty degree weather in Washington is downright ridiculous!

“Work, or one of our good chums?” Jake asked, licking his fingers of any meringue. He apparently took it upon himself to finish that piece of pie while you were chatting with Dirk.

“Just Strider being a big wuss. That party pooper says he hasn’t been visiting because it’s too cold outside!”

“It _is_ getting a little chilly now,” he conceded.

Geez, all of your friends are total wusses! It won’t _really_ get cold for at least another month, and if it will be anything like last year, all three of them won’t step foot outside the house until April. Seriously, nobody wanted to do anything, and you nearly had to _drag_ Jake out of the house whenever you wanted to get together at Dirk and Roxy’s. If you didn’t take the initiative, you’d never see them all winter!

That was a bridge you needed to cross with every change of the seasons, so you decided to worry about that when it actually got cold. For now, there was still some cake left, and Jake wasn’t looking quite full yet.

You replaced the PDA in your hand with one of the remaining pieces of cake nearby, a slice of vanilla, and made your way back over to Jake. You retook your position across his lap, crossing your legs at the ankles.

“Ready to continue?” you inquired, fork in hand.

“Always!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry for the delay. Had to throw Dirk in there too! Still a little short, but I originally planned on posting this after wrapping up the story and thus completing it with this as the first half of the final update, but I felt that I can probably churn out an additional segment in between (mostly for self indulgent purposes). 
> 
> But first I would like to ask the prompt's OP (if they are still around) and any other readers if they would like me to go a little more into Jane feeding (and subsequently stuffing) Jake? I'd thought I'd ask since this is for a prompt that wasn't really specific for a feeding/feederism scenario. ^^;

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing _pretty much all the Alphas_. I hope it wasn't TOO horrible...


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